Page 101 of Falling for the Playboy Pilot

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Guys like Tyler and Marcus are who you should be with.”

She sighed. “I know. Too bad they’re not you.”

We both knew what was right. How fucked up was it that we were both choosing to do the wrong thing?

“Come home with me,” I whispered.

“I need to take Janna’s car back.”

“I’ll follow you.”

She turned to walk away, and I couldn’t resist swatting her ass.

“Hey!”

“That’s for following me, you stalker.”

She grinned. “Well, at least I didn’t punch her.”

“Thank you for having more restraint than I do.” I followed her back to the field and stayed in my truck while she went in to find Janna. I tried to convince myself to drive away and leave her ass. It was so wrong of me to be doing this to her. She was a good woman, and I knew I was treating her like shit by not offering more.

She opened my passenger door and hopped in. “Let’s go.”

Every instinct told me to push her away. To reclaim clarity. But instead, I kept pulling her in.

Back at my cabin, I poured us both a whiskey.

“You don’t have to get me drunk to get me into bed,” Janna said, accepting the glass with a smirk.

“Who says I’m trying to get you into bed?” I shot back, though we both knew it was bullshit.

She raised an eyebrow and took a sip. “Right. So what’s this then?”

I downed half my whiskey in one go. “Liquid courage.”

“For what?”

“To tell you that you’re making a mistake.”

She set her glass down and moved closer, her fingers trailing along my chest. “So you keep saying.”

The touch sent electricity through me. I caught her wrist, stilling her hand. “Janna.”

“What?”

“I meant what I said. I can’t give you what you want.”

“And I meant what I said. Let me worry about what I want.”

I should have driven her back to the dorms and told her to find someone who could give her the fairy tale she deserved. Instead, I pulled her against me, my mouth finding hers in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and gentle.

She melted into me, her hands fisting in my shirt. I could taste the whiskey on her lips, could feel the way she trembled against me. Every rational thought I had dissolved under the weight of wanting her.

“This is so fucked up,” I murmured against her mouth.

“I know,” she whispered back, then kissed me again.